


touching the sun

by wintersend



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: (well except K2 sorry), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dream Sex, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Jyn POV, Light Smut, Mutual Pining, Non-fated soulmates, Rebelcaptain Big Bang, They're Bad at Feelings(TM), Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, aka even the force is done with their mutual pining bullshit, but it's my way, it's romantic because it's a choice, soulmates are made not found
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersend/pseuds/wintersend
Summary: After Jyn and Cassian escape Scarif, they're in limbo. Neither of them really know how to be close to each other. But when Jyn notices a strange bond developing between them that she can't explain, it forces them to acknowledge their true feelings...(OR, the AU that's not quite soulmates, not quitenotsoulmates)
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Jyn Erso & Bodhi Rook, Jyn Erso & Lyra Erso
Comments: 48
Kudos: 104
Collections: Rebelcaptain Big Bang 2020





	touching the sun

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Rebelcaptain Big Bang organized by wonderful mods of the [dailyrebelcaptain](https://dailyrebelcaptain.tumblr.com) tumblr. Gifset for the story was made by the lovely _early-sunsets_ which you can see [here.](https://early-sunsets.tumblr.com/post/637500643394912256) Go check it out, it's absolutely gorgeous <3
> 
> I've had this story idea since I joined the fandom and it's really great to finally be able to post it! It was quite challenging, to be honest, and I'm not sure about the results, but I do hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Liberties taken with the world and the way Force bonds work so... don't look at it too closely.

She doesn’t know when it started, only that it did. Maybe it’s been there from the beginning, like a quiet hum in the back of your mind; waiting, growing.

If Jyn thinks about it, she’s always been attuned to Cassian. They’re so different and so similar; she understands him even when she doesn’t agree with him. They’re hungry animals; but that’s instinctive and this is… something else.

It’s more in a way that scares her. Because there’s something extraordinary about feeling someone else’s pain on a physical. But Jyn, she does – she thinks she can feel his pain.

She remembers back to the aftermath of Scarif; Cassian in her arms on a shuttle, Cassian in surgery, Cassian in a bacta tank, Cassian lying motionless in the medbay. It had been a long week, and though she was mostly fine, she hadn’t _felt_ fine. It was an ache in her bones, deep down to the marrow. But she chalked it up to worry, sleep deprivation, and grief. She hadn’t noticed it then, this bond. Maybe it wasn’t there then.

She does remember the moment she becomes aware of it. Her shoulder begins to ache as she’s working in comms, which isn’t all that disconcerting at first. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair all day can take its toll on your body. She mentions it only in passing to Bodhi, but it’s dropped as a conversation topic pretty quickly when Cassian shows up with his right arm in a sling. Jyn is too busy making her disapproval known to connect the pieces right away.

He’s been pushing himself too hard. He’s frustrated because he hasn’t been cleared for fieldwork, and Jyn suspects he’s desperate to prove that he’s still a valuable asset to the rebellion. She has no doubt about that one, of course, but the truth is that his mobility will never be the same. His back will always bother him. His limp is less noticeable now than it had been at first, but he still struggles in colder weather, and he has to be careful about how he sleeps and where he sleeps.

These are the things Cassian refuses to acknowledge. The sooner he’ll accept them, the sooner they’ll let him go on missions again. But Jyn doesn’t push him because she feels partly at fault for what happened to him, and really – she has no business telling him how he should cope.

Instead, she stays quiet, and he remains restless. The thing about Cassian, he needs to feel useful. So he pushes himself too hard, trying to heal faster than he should be, and leaving him only more exhausted than before. It could only lead to burnout, if not worse, and Jyn glares at him as she sharply tells him as much. Here it is, the result of his impatience: a twisted shoulder from a sparring match.

“You have to be more careful,” she tells him, a frown pulling at her lips.

“I’m careful,” Cassian retorts without hesitation.

“I mean it,” she says, pausing for a second. A little push won’t hurt. “You’ll end up hurting yourself more and undoing all the progress you’ve already made.”

Cassian snaps his head to hers, a flare of indignation in his eyes. She stares back, unimpressed. She knows he hates being treated as fragile, but if he won’t acknowledge his own limits, somebody has to. She’ll gladly be the person he can rage at if it stops him from ruining himself.

“I’m not a child, I don’t need you to tell me how to take care of myself.”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow, unphased by his nasty tone. “Then where’s that famous patience of yours? Maybe you should put it to use and you might recover faster.”

Cassian pauses, almost taken aback, but his moment of self-awareness doesn’t last long. He harrumphs and turns away, conversation effectively over. She acknowledges it as a win; he can’t argue with her, and he knows it. Maybe he won’t admit it yet, but Jyn is willing to accept small steps for now. It’s all a work in progress.

In the middle of it all, she’s forgotten all about her own pain. It’s only when he leaves, staring at his retreating back, that her fingers drift up to her right shoulder, a frown twisting on her lips. It’s a strange coincidence, she muses.

Just a coincidence all the same.

* * *

But it builds.

It’s small things, barely worth noticing at first. She hears dull noises sometimes, like an echo of someone else’s surroundings; but it’s probably just chatter from the room next door. She knows Cassian’s presence before she turns around to greet him; but she’s perceptive and they’ve always been drawn to each other like that. She looks at him and she can almost see what he’s thinking in his head; but she’s gotten pretty good at reading him. His back hurts from the cold and she swears her own aches like a phantom pain, a mirror of his; but his pain is her pain.

There’s always an excuse, and it’s not entirely conscious – she just doesn’t think anything is going on. Not at first.

Cassian’s shoulder heals in a couple of days but his restlessness won’t ebb. Jyn can tell he wants something from the moment he walks in the door. He’s watching her, arms folded, expression unreadable on the surface – but Jyn knows better. She sees the intent on his face.

“What?” she barks out, not really malicious, but too impatient for this game. Sometimes, when he looks at her, she _itches_ , and she doesn’t really know what to do with that. It makes uncomfortable, how fast he gets under her skin.

“I was wondering,” he begins, completely nonchalant, “if you wanted to spar with me.”

_Of course._

“Me? With you?” She raises her eyebrows. “Do you _want_ to be beaten?”

It’s not entirely fair; Cassian is good enough that she knows he’d give her a real challenge, but he’s not as vicious, not as brutal as her. And his injuries certainly make things difficult for him.

“Don’t sell me short,” he answers, slightly provoking. She shakes her head at him. This won’t be a good idea.

“Go pick someone your own size, Cassian.”

“I’m sick of everyone going easy on me,” he growls, mask slipping and frustration finally seeping into his voice. Jyn raises her eyebrows.

“And you think I won’t?”

“I hope you’d respect me more.”

_Ha. Nice try._

“Don’t guilt-trip me.”

“Why? Would it work?”

Jyn holds back a small laugh at his determination.

“I’m just gonna ignore you now,” she tells him, making a show of turning back to her datapad.

He huffs.

“You can try, but you’re gonna miss me in about five minutes,” he responds, and she hates that he’s right.

He’s right, of course. And Cassian is extremely stubborn. She’s not sure which one of them is the more stubborn of the two, but she knows he’s definitely the more patient one.

Perhaps that’s how they end up in the training room half an hour later. She’s not sure why she gave in. Was it his smooth-talking, his quiet stare, his unwaveringly persistent presence? Or was it the truly forlorn twist of his mouth? Cassian has been dark and moody from the day they met, but she hates the way his quiet hopefulness began to turn into pessimism as his recovery lagged and his stay on base lengthened.

Ideally, she can help to give him a sense of self outside of the rebellion, but while that takes time, she can help him in other ways.

Or maybe she’s just a damn pushover when it comes to Cassian. That’s entirely possible too.

She tries to go easy on him at first. Despite what he said about respect, – and she respects him more than anyone – she doesn’t want to hurt him. It’s a precarious balance, and she thinks she’s being careful, just aggressive enough that he won’t pick up on it, but of course he _does._ Because he’s the most observant person she’s met, and he knows her better than she’s ever been known. It’s useless to hide anything from him.

When Cassian pulls away, wiping sweat from his forehead, and accusing her of going easy, she doesn’t bother denying it.

“You’re not even trying.”

Jyn spares a moment to think that he looks good in his sleeveless black shirt, then shrugs.

“I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea. I’m only doing it to humor you.”

“Come on, Jyn. I can take it.”

And then, seemingly to prove his point, he aims a punch to her side.

Okay then. If he really wants to play like that.

Soon, they’re sparring for real, throwing punches, blocking hits, and circling each other like predators. This is when Jyn notices how she almost… _knows_ what he’s going to do before he does it. What his next move is going to be. She steps to her left just as he steps to his right, and she pulls back, avoiding a hit just as arm lashes out. She sees his mind whirring, feels his pulse racing, senses his adrenaline rushing.

It should make her job simple but it doesn’t. Cassian counters her easily – perhaps too easily – almost like he’s reading her as well. Almost as if some strange sixth sense has bloomed between them.

She’s just starting to grow concerned about it, the stalemate unbroken, when Cassian misses a step. He’s exhausted, though he’s certainly held his own well, for the circumstances and for himself. But she manages to catch him off-guard with the misstep. Throwing him off-balance and landing him on his back, she looms over him, her foot lightly pressing on his stomach. _Like a predator conquering its prey._

“I win,” she declares, panting. Cassian stares up at her with impossibly dark eyes, surrendering at her feet. She sees so many possibilities, so many desires reflected in his gaze – she’s almost sure this thing between them is real and he wants her too, wants her to lean down and kiss him, slip her hand under his pants and grab his cock, stroke him until he’s hard and begging her, until he’s –

She startles, blinking away the images conceived by her own perverted mind. _Shavit. Control your damn hormones, Erso._

She lifts her leg and steps away. It’s probably just her own desire playing a trick on her. She can’t trust herself to judge him clearly on this because she can’t be subjective. And she won’t screw up their relationship on a _guess._

As she walks away to get a bottle of water, a flash of disappointment runs through her. She grabs the bottle with a frown. It sounds crazy but it doesn’t feel like an emotion that belongs to her. Sure, she’s somewhat disappointed, but she made the conscious choice to pull away herself. So why does she feel the frustration of something not going the way you want it to?

Cassian gets up too, nodding when she turns and hands him a bottle. It’s a bit awkward, the tension from earlier lingering in the air, and desperate to get rid of it, Jyn clears her throat.

“You’re getting better,” she tells him, and it’s the truth. Cassian might be hoping for more, but his persistence is slowly paying off. He’s stronger every day, healthier every day.

Cassian smiles at her words. It’s small but she treasures it, heart picking up at the sight. He looks good like this, all sweaty and tired in a good way, a lock of hair falling over his eyes. She’s helplessly gone for him, a moth to a flame, unable to stop herself from falling into his gravity. _He’s beautiful._

Cassian stares at her in open shock, and Jyn reels back. _Oh no._ Did she say that aloud? Impossible. She wouldn’t have. But then –

Why the kriff is Cassian looking at her like she’s just called his grandmother a stupid nerf-herder?

You’re being crazy, she tells herself, busying herself with taking a sip of her bottle as she tries not to blush. He couldn’t have actually heard what you were _thinking._ He couldn’t have. You’re not in a goddamn holonovel.

No matter her mother’s stories – and Jyn remembered her stories – the Force doesn’t just bind two people together with a mysterious bond.

It doesn’t happen. Everything’s normal.

* * *

Cassian is finally cleared for missions, much to his relief and Jyn’s chagrin. She tries to feel happy for him if this is what he really wants (though she knows he doesn’t. He doesn’t _enjoy_ going on missions, it’s just better than the alternative. Cassian hates feeling like he’s wasting space and resources. It gives her a very sobering realization about his upbringing, and Jyn wants to punch whoever planted these ideas in his head, _likely Draven)_.

But she’d been admittedly calmer when he was still bound to base and they saw each other nearly every day. It’s just not going to be the same without him around, but that should be the least of it. What’s worse is that he’ll be out there, without her, and she won’t know whether he lived or died until he came back. If he came back. Is that what he was fighting so hard to get back to? Was he so eager to leave her –

 _Stop it_ , she tells herself. _It’s not about you._ But it’s so hard to convince herself of that when everyone she’s ever loved had left her. What’s stopping Cassian from becoming one of them – whether by choice or circumstance?

She doesn’t say any of this to him when she sees him off. It’s not the right time or place, but she gets the feeling he already knows. Because whenever he looks at her, it’s like he sees right through her soul down to her very bones.

She should really figure out what’s going on with _that._

“Be careful,” she tells him simply. The words itself are meaningless, it’s the way she says it that matters. All her hopes are built on him – she needs him to come back.

_Come back to me._

“I’ll try,” he says, and Jyn’s eyes widen. “I promise.”

_Had she said that aloud?_

No. She’s pretty sure she didn’t.

Cassian doesn’t seem to notice, carrying on like nothing happened, and Jyn comes to a revelation that she’s been trying to deny.

It’s him too.

Whatever is happening that she’s been trying so hard to ignore, it’s happening to him too.

And that… makes it all too real.

Jyn swallows, pushing back the words in her throat. Not the right time, not the right place; his ship is about to take off. Whatever is happening between them, it’ll have to wait.

* * *

With Cassian gone, Jyn spars. She spars with Chirrut, she spars with Baze, she spars with new recruits, trying to teach them a thing or two. She even spars with Luke Skywalker once. Anything to keep herself busy and her mind blank. Otherwise, she’d start thinking and she’d spiral and –

Well, it’s best not to go there.

Because sure, she misses Cassian. And yes, she’s worried about him. A lot. But it’s not just that. The disquieting part, the part she can’t handle is that she almost misses the strange bond between them too.

She hadn’t realized how normal it’s become, so focused she was on ignoring it. Now she knows it ran deeper than she’d ever imagined. Gone is Cassian’s steady presence around base or the unconscious knowledge of his precise location, gone are the shared glances and the silent communications that were maybe a bit more telepathic and a bit less instinctive than she’d realized. Gone are her backaches too, and that, more than anything, is quite telling.

It’s almost a little quiet in her head without him, and that’s too much for her to think about. It sounds crazy. Yet…

Jyn is equally terrified and in awe of this unnamed, unspoken bond.

Two standard weeks after Cassian’s departure and one standard week before his scheduled arrival back, Jyn finds herself in the training room, pummeling the boxing dummy like it had personally insulted her mother. She doesn’t sleep well, not unless she tires herself out first, and even then, it’s fitful and light. That’s not much new, but it’s definitely worse since Cassian left. Nowadays, she rarely goes to sleep without training first.

As she takes a break from punching the bag, a thought enters her head, unbidden.

“I miss you.”

Jyn startles. She looks around instinctively, looking for someone in the room with her, even though she knows she’s alone. Even though she knows Cassian isn’t here.

And it sounded like Cassian.

Which means that either she’s going crazy, or… Or…

“I miss you too,” she says – _thinks,_ and hopes that if this is real, he hears her too. For once, she doesn’t want to question it or dismiss it, for once, she just wants to accept it. Let it lead her, wherever she has to go.

There’s no response. Somehow, she thinks he heard her anyway.

And if he has, and if she has, then she knows it’s time to finally confront this.

* * *

Here’s what Jyn didn’t let herself think.

Her mother was a believer. She had a strong faith and stronger convictions. She told Jyn all sorts of stories; about miracles, about the Jedi, about the Force, about the galaxy. She told her daughter about heroes, she told her about battles lost and won.

But there’s one story that stood out in particular now. A story about a bond, a story about two people who weren’t soulmates (Lyra had used that word; Jyn remembers because she wasn’t sure what it meant and had to ask her mother for clarification) but they _became_ them. A story about love.

Jyn has only vague memories about how it went. A pair who had been through much together, a pair who supported and trusted and loved each other unconditionally. A pair who the Force bestowed with the _gift_ of a bond between them; unbreakable, unshakeable, undeniable. It connected them for life, allowing them to communicate without words, with distance, so that they may never lose each other in the vastness of the galaxy. When one was hurt, so was the other, and when one was happy, so was the other. It sounded romantic, little Jyn had thought, and her mother smiled and said it was because it had been a choice. A conscious effort made every day to stay with each other, to keep helping each other. It was the most romantic story of them all, Lyra had said.

But Jyn didn’t let herself think about it when she first started experiencing this… bond. Because it hadn’t been real to her, the stories, not for a long time.

Seven-year-old Jyn believed every word her mother told her – of course the Force was real and of course it bonded people together sometimes. It was evident, indisputable. But eight-year-old Jyn wasn’t so sure anymore, and nine-year-old Jyn refused to believe in it. The Force didn’t bring her parents back no matter how much she prayed. The Force didn’t save them to begin with. And the Force wasn’t real.

22-year-old Jyn thought she’d seen too much to believe in fairytales. But she kept her kyber crystal close and she held it when she was frightened, and it – or some other unseen force, or just sheer dumb luck – had saved them on Scarif and gave them a second chance. So maybe 22-year-old Jyn had room for faith in her heart after all.

If her mother’s stories were right – and even if they weren’t – there’s only one person who can give her clarification on this. Chirrut.

“I think something is happening to me and Cassian,” she tells him without preamble because if she didn’t get straight into it, she’d chicken out. Chirrut looks unsurprised. Baze gives her a raised eyebrow, glances once at his husband, then stands up with a heavy sigh.

“I guess I’ll leave you two alone then,” he grumbles as he heads out.

When he’s gone, Jyn turns to Chirrut. “You already know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“Haven’t the faintest clue,” Chirrut hums pleasantly, patting a spot on the bed next to him. “Why don’t you sit and explain it to me?”

She does. It’s a bit hard to explain; she doesn’t know how, she doesn’t know if she wants to. It’s so private, something just between her and Cassian – but well, this is Chirrut. She can trust him. It’s still a bit awkward.

“I don’t quite understand it,” she finishes, heaving a sigh as Chirrut sits in silence, waiting for her to get it all out. “The bond... I feel him. Less, when he’s not close, but sometimes I still get distant impressions of what he’s feeling or what he’s thinking. And it’s… so much. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Hmm,” Chirrut hums once, and she waits, feeling that she’s said her piece. But Chirrut stays silent, not a word or reaction, and Jyn quickly grows impatient.

“So? What do you think it is? Has this ever happened before?”

“Certainly, there are stories,” he admits, inclining his head. “About extraordinary bonds, about soulmates. But it’s quite rare. Quite extraordinary. The Force works in mysterious ways.”

“Oh, don’t give me the trust the Force speech,” Jyn groans, throwing her head back, and resolutely ignoring the word _soulmate._ “I need something concrete here, Chirrut.”

“Has it hurt you in any way? Has it hindered you in any way?”

“No, but… Well, am I supposed to just accept it? Just like that?”

“You can do little to change it, Jyn. Best not to worry about things you can’t control.”

“But why is the Force doing this?” Jyn frowns, unable to keep herself from questioning it. Why her, why them? What is the purpose of it?

“The only thing who can answer that question is _you._ ”

_Huh?_

“Chirrut…”

“You shouldn’t fight it. Your connection is strong, and the Force has recognized it. It’s not a bad thing.”

At that, Jyn swallows. It’s similar to her mother’s story: trust, faith, support. Sure, she and Cassian share all those things. But don’t other people as well?

Jyn can’t help but feel a little peeved by it. Bold of the Force to put her on the spot like that. Why can’t the bugger just kriff off and let her make her move in her own time?

“Can we stop it? Undo it?” she asks, but her heart beats in her throat, realizing that she doesn’t actually want to. However much she didn’t appreciate the intervention, it already happened. What would it mean for the two of them if they reversed it?

Chirrut smiles like he knows that it’s a useless question because neither of them would want it.

“You can but you won’t want to. Think of it like a flower, a living thing. You must tend to it for it to grow. If you don’t, it will wither and die.”

Jyn feels ill at the idea, like a part of her has been torn out. No, she definitely doesn’t want it. It’s wrong, it’s – it’s sacrilege.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she admits after a pause, her voice small, her breathing shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“What has not loving gotten you?” Chirrut asks, and Jyn exhales softly, a tearful laugh on her lips.

“It’s kept me safe.”

“From what?”

“From people leaving.”

Chirrut’s expression remains serene, but his smile is almost understanding. “And it’s also kept you very alone,” he says, and Jyn says nothing to that.

She can’t argue with him.

* * *

Cassian comes to her in a dream that night. It’s an important distinction – she’s not dreaming _of him_ , not really, because somehow, in a way that she knows her own name, she knows that it’s real. Real because it’s him, because they both share this dream and they’re both aware of it. He’s in her dream or she’s in his, but she’s not alone in her head anymore.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t mind the intrusion. Not if it’s Cassian.

She doesn’t even remember if they greeted each other, if they talked, or if they’ve just been sitting wrapped up in each other in comfortable silence from the start. It feels natural. Although nothing has ever happened between them in waking life, it’s not weird. It’s not awkward. Jyn plays with the sleeves of Cassian’s coat, seated on his lap, looking for all the world like she’s always belonged there. Her back against his chest, she feels his rhythmic heartbeat, giving her a sense of peace she’s scarce experienced in her short life.

“All this time, I wanted to be cleared for fieldwork,” he begins, his voice a rumble against her hair, quiet as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere between them, “and now I long to be back on base.”

He lets out a humorless snort like he cannot believe his own idiocy. Jyn places her hand on the top of his, lacing their fingers together in silent response. He doesn’t say anything for a while, staring, it seems, at their hands instead.

She waits patiently.

“I hadn’t considered that I have a reason to come home now. A reason to survive the war,” he continues, and anyone could realize that he means her. Heartbeat picking up, Jyn burrows even closer to his chest. “I hadn’t realized that I don’t want to die now. No matter how selfish it is, I don’t want to die because of you.”

“That’s not selfish,” she shushes him gently, staring at her own fingers drawing patterns on the palm of his hand. She wonders briefly what kind of fucked up world they live in that Cassian would think not wanting to die is _selfish_ – but those kinds of depressing thoughts don’t belong to this peaceful atmosphere so she dismisses them. Not now.

Instead, she turns in his arm, catching his gaze and holding it as she reiterates, “Wanting to live is not selfish, Cassian.”

He doesn’t argue, though she’s not sure if it’s because she’s convinced him or because he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Either way, Jyn pulls herself up taller and winds her arms around his neck. Instinctively, it seems, Cassian’s hand falls on her waist and curls around her protectively. Jyn’s entire body is humming.

“I feel the same,” she admits, feeling like she has to give some sort of verbal confirmation before she plunges ahead. Just to make sure they’re on the same page – he’s not alone in his longing. “You make me want to survive… so that maybe we might be together without a war someday. I want to know what that’s like.”

Her name is a plea on his lips, a desire unspoken until now, and Jyn gives in, giving him what he wants – what they both want. She kisses him, softly but surely, with the absolute certainty that he feels the same.

It’s a bit like touching the sun. His lips are warm, a pleasant pressure against her own, and instantly, she’s hit by a thousand thoughts and feelings not her own.

_Cassian._

Like the connection between them magnified, he relays his thoughts through touch. The emotions flow through her like a river, warming her up inside and out. It’s hard to tell where he begins and she ends because they’re both feeling the same; passion, affection, lust, desire. He gasps when she slips her hand under his coat and rakes her nails up his back. She feels the impression of it like it was her own skin. It’s a strange feeling. But not unwelcome.

She wonders if he too feels his own touch reverberate when he pulls her closer and puts a hand on her ass, his other skimming her breasts. She wonders if this is how they finally kill each other – with mutual pleasure. _But what a way to go._

Jyn isn’t sure how they end up naked and writhing against each other, Cassian kissing her neck as she clutches at his shoulder and tries not to breathe too loudly in his ear. It’s a dream – a dream and not-a-dream – and things are strange and unlawful in dreams; it’s possible their clothes just disappeared because she wished them so, because it was convenient so. She doesn’t care, doesn’t dwell on it anymore; what’s more important is Cassian, Cassian and his kisses, Cassian and his noises, Cassian and his touches, caressing her, instinctively, in all the right places, all the right moments.

She comes once before he’s even inside of her, clenching around his fingers as her back arches and soft whimpers escape her mouth. Sounds that are muffled when he kisses her, gently quiets her. He pulls away then, their eyes catching, a question in his and confirmation in hers. She lets out a strangled moan when Cassian enters her, both of them pausing to adjust to this new feeling, all the more intense because of the bond. She feels what he feels, and he feels what she feels. Her breathing ends in her and begins anew in him. This transcendence is more than she’s ever felt before.

Jyn kisses him and he begins moving, steady at first but growing more desperate as she rolls her hips up to meet his thrusts, digging her nails into his back as he slips deeper. Soft needy sounds escape her, the pressure in her chest too much, but Cassian mirrors them, barely holding himself together, it seems. She wants to claw out of her skin and live in his, live like this forever, with him inside her, with this ecstasy between them building. The journey is almost better than the destination, but when she lifts her hand to hold his cheek, they’re shaking and weak and she knows she can’t hold on for much longer. Her eyes lock on his, her moans growing breathier and whinier, Cassian’s thrusts erratic and frantic. His eyes are darker than she’s ever seen them. Then he gives a particularly deep thrust and she screws her eyes shut, mouth falling open. _Force, it’s so fucking good._

 _I know,_ she hears his answer in her head, probably just as unconscious as her own stray thought was. _I know, I know, Force, for me too, Jyn, fuck, I can’t last long, I love you –_

They come at the same time and stay like that, wrapped up in each other with his head buried in her neck and her hands in his hair. Until the dream fades and Jyn finds herself alone in her bunk, staring at the ceiling with a strange sort of anticipation in her gut.

It was real. It happened. He was with her.

And she can’t wait to have him back in person.

* * *

(She doesn’t think about his _I love you._ She felt it before he even said it, and maybe he felt it reverberate from her, but the words are not hers until he intentionally says them. It doesn’t bother her, she can wait, and she thinks he’ll wait for hers too. The feeling, for now, is enough.)

* * *

But then, Cassian comes home, and he’s not okay.

She knows it, immediately. His presence is overwhelming. Although she can sense him, she can’t _feel_ him. Like he’s… disconnected somehow.

It takes her rushing to the medbay, heart in her throat, to figure out why. He’s unconscious, hooked up to all sorts of machines that beep rhythmically like a mocking tune taunting her. His skin is pale and purplish with bruises, a large bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Her own hurts; it must be broken.

And then there’s the bandage on his chest that sets her heart racing. A blaster wound. Another scar for his collection.

He looks… like he had after Scarif.

Perhaps not quite as bad (he looked half-dead then) but it’s a close thing. It’s close enough for Jyn to wonder what the hell she’s doing getting so attached to him. What the hell she’s thinking that it could work.

It could never work; not with the life they lead.

 _Second time in less than six months,_ she thinks, _this man is a walking death trap._

He had been so eager for this. For more pain and hurt. But if that’s what he chose, she couldn’t stand by his side and watch death take another person from her. It’s just… not in her anymore. It would be too much.

_You are a fool. He’ll always choose the rebellion. What’s stopping him from leaving you – whether by circumstance or choice?_

Nothing.

Jyn turns around and walks out of the medbay.

* * *

She goes to see him once he’s conscious – she doesn’t want to completely shut him out – but she doesn’t linger long. She doesn’t know how to act around him anymore.

One second, they were friends, then Chirrut was telling her they were soulmates _,_ then they were making love in a dream that was not a dream, and now… Now he’s distant. Bruised. Different.

She hears from gossip that the agent who accompanied him – a boy of only 17 – came back in a body bag. Jyn knows it hit him hard. She gets the sense when she’s talking to him, that he wishes he was the one who died instead. Jyn feels terrible for being glad that he wasn’t.

_I had trained him._

_It’s my fault he’s dead._

_It’s my fault Kay’s dead._

_I can’t even bring him back._

Jyn tries not to listen, not to invade his privacy, but it’s like his thoughts are screaming at her to be heard. Maybe he’s too upset to control it, or maybe some small part of him wants to be heard. She isn’t sure and so she can’t confront him about it. Instead, they just talk about the recruits Jyn has been training in his absence. Like two people who never shared anything more than friendly comradery between them.

They don’t talk about the dream.

She feels herself pulling away and he doesn’t resist.

* * *

It’s only when he’s discharged that they talk again. Jyn fools herself into believing that she was just too busy, but truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to see him. Not the way he was. And Cassian didn’t seem like he wanted to see her either. So quickly the enthusiasm and passion from their night spent together were gone. Now all she feels is cold dread.

They’re both bad at relationships, and what little ability to love they have left between them, it’s not enough.

Jyn goes to see him with that knowledge rooted in her brain after Bodhi had asked her if she was okay when she stared at her cooling caf in front of her for five minutes without speaking. She snapped out of it with a confused blink, realizing that she’d been so focused on what Cassian was feeling that she completely forgot about her surroundings.

“No,” she admitted, strangely honest. “He’s really sad. He’s been sad for a long time.”

Bodhi gave her a look – confusion or sympathy, she was too tired to deduce – and Jyn left to find Cassian.

Now in front of his door, her determination falters. She isn’t sure what’s the right choice here. She doesn’t want to let him go, but she can’t imagine how she could ever do this with him. It just isn’t coded in them. It would end in disaster.

_How can I be with someone who would just throw their life away like that?_

She could barely handle losing him if they were just friends – but losing him as a lover might break her. They have to put this to rest between them.

She reminds herself of this before she knocks on his door. Shuffling comes from the other side before it opens an inch, revealing a sour-faced Cassian blinking at her in surprise. Jyn doesn’t say anything, hoping her expression will speak for her. After a second, he opens the door wider and steps aside to let her in. There’s an air of defeat in his body posture as she passes him.

“So…” she begins, staring at the wall because she can’t quite meet his eyes. She can feel Cassian’s heavy gaze on her like an anchor weighing her down.

“We don’t have to do this.”

There’s something in the way he says it, something dark and hateful that almost takes her by surprise. If she couldn’t still feel him, she might think it’s directed at her. But it’s directed at himself. She gets the vague feeling that his reasons are just self-hatred; he doesn’t think he deserves her, or anything good.

Which in itself is so absurd that it’s almost enough to make her reconsider – but in that same second, there’s a break in the connection, like a wall that goes up and cuts her off from Cassian. Jyn’s face darkens as she realizes he shut her out on purpose.

Perhaps that’s for the best too. This connection between them would only make things more difficult, and, she muses, neither of them have truly consented to it. She has no more right to his thoughts and emotions than he has to hers. And she doesn’t want to take it by force.

With a resigned nod, she meets his eyes. “Okay then.”

It’s so inadequate – _okay then._ It’s not worthy enough for the ache in her chest. But he nods too, looking away just a second, a flash of pain in his eyes… and that’s it.

It’s finished.

* * *

They remain friends. As much as they can. In group settings; in the presence of Bodhi, or the company of Chirrut and Baze. They don’t _avoid_ each other. But they don’t really spend time together one-on-one either. Jyn isn’t sure she wouldn’t fall back into his gravity if they did, and Cassian, she’s sure, has his own reasons too.

He’s more withdrawn than usual, and she knows others have noticed. She hopes one of them will talk to him about it; maybe they could help him the way she couldn’t. _Did you really try, though?_ a nasty voice asks in her brain but she shuts it down. She wants Cassian to be okay, she does, but she has to take care of herself too. No one else would if she didn’t. So she does what she’s best at: putting herself first.

And when Cassian continues to block her out, the wall between them bulletproof, she tries not to feel hurt. It had been a mutual decision, after all. But already, the bond feels weaker, and Jyn remembers Chirrut’s words from earlier.

_Think of it like a flower, a living thing. You must tend to it for it to grow. If you don’t, it will wither and die._

It’s only at night that he lets her in sometimes. Unintentionally, of course, his concentration slipping, his exhaustion driving him into mellowness. Jyn picks up on it through her own tired mind and loosened bricks. Like a ray of light filtering through the cracks. So small, it’s almost evanescent. It’s enough to keep it alive for just a little longer – but not forever, she knows.

This is how it ends then. Eventually, it will rot, and she wonders if her feelings will die with it too. Maybe a part of her is hoping for it. Maybe she’d have some peace then.

* * *

_Mama is lying on the floor when he gets home that day, unmoving. There’s a red spot on her chest, a puddle gathering around her – he looks around but Lidia is nowhere to be found. He searches the house, calling her name with urgency, but there’s no answer. He doesn’t know what to do. The door had been open and in shambles like a giant had kicked it in. He’s shaking as he goes back to Mama and kneels by her side. Did the bad men get in? Had they taken Lidia?_

_He takes Mama’s hand, cold under his own, shaking it feebly._

_“Wake up,” he tells her, gasping out the words. “Wake up, Mama. Lidia is gone. She needs you.”_

_Wake up…_

Jyn wakes with a start, shaking and panting from a nightmare that wasn’t hers. _Cassian._ It belonged to Cassian. His mother? Was that how she died? And Lidia – she had never heard Cassian mention that name before but she could only guess she was his sister. What happened to her?

The realization that she knows so little about Cassian is sobering, but that nightmare… It felt so real. Like it had been hers and she had been Cassian and they were all her memories. It leaves her heart racing in her chest, sweat pooling on her forehead, her nightshirt sticking to her skin. The hysterical urge to cry builds in her throat.

 _Cassian?_ she sends to him tentatively, too shaken up to care about the radio silence between them. She can only imagine what he must be feeling, fear and panic swirling in her own chest, unsure how much of it is hers and how much of it is his. She needs to let him know he’s not alone.

 _Cassian, I’m here,_ she thinks, hoping that he hears her. It’s the first time she tries to consciously reach out to him through the bond, and she’s not sure how it works or if it works, but it’s all she can do. Send as many positive thoughts his way as she can; love, comfort, companionship. _I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here._

His panic eventually ebbs but Jyn stays awake with him until he falls back asleep. Neither of them says a word through the whole night but she feels him on the other end like he was here next to her, listening to each other breathe. Eventually, it helps her settle down too.

(They don’t talk about it.)

**Author's Note:**

> To tell you the truth, I haven't been this nervous about a story in a long time, so I appreciate feedback - both good and constructive criticism. And thanks for reading! As always, you can find me on [tumblr](https://captainandors.tumblr.com/)


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